Angel Feathers
by LilFlow
Summary: Arthur was an angel charged with caring for the children targeted by the demons of the world, but this particular child may be the most difficult to care for yet. Minor USUK, long oneshot, angel!AU


**Angel Feathers**

* * *

He was looking down at two young boys, busy playing whatever games in their backyard. Nothing out of the ordinary there, the children were usually under the age of ten, it was when they were most vulnerable.

"Which one is it, Francis?" He asked the other angel, who was observing the two boys with a light smile.

"Isn't that for you to find out?" Francis let himself float up a little, settling down on a branch in the tree they were sheltering in. "After all, the child is yours to care for, Arthur."

"But there was nothing said about there being two." Arthur groaned, he was used to coming down to the human world, yes, but usually the child he was sent to care for had already been left alone. Usually they were difficult to pinpoint before then.

"Maybe the Highers didn't know either. Everyone can make mistakes. Even us." Francis dropped down from the tree into the yard, crouching down next to the children, knowing only too well that they would not feel his presence there. "They said that he has a strong soul. That is why we have been able to find him before a shadow falls. You cannot make the same error as last time, Arthur."

"I know that." Arthur landed next to him but didn't meet his eye. "I'm not as weak as I was back then."

"I know." Francis smiled up at him. "And so do the Highers. That's why you've been given this task."

"I've only just got here and there're already problems. Not exactly what I was hoping for." He frowned, flexing his wings out behind him so that a few of the pure white feathers dropped loose. "I suppose I will just have to care for both of them for now."

"I suppose so, yes." The other angel stood back up, letting his smile fade slightly from his features. "I should not linger any longer. Are you sure that you will be alright this time?"

"Of course." Arthur sighed, glancing at the two boys. They looked like twins they were so alike, and Arthur supposed that it was a possibility. The more boisterous of the two kept throwing mud at the quieter, who was complaining to no avail and gradually getting more and more covered in dirt along with his brother. "They are children. We are born to protect them. I won't make the same mistakes as last time."

"Then I will trust your better judgement." Francis stretched his wings, lifting a few inches back into the air. "I will visit from time to time, I expect."

"Not too often, I hope." Arthur smirked, reaching up to clap his friend on the shoulder. "Don't get into trouble while I'm gone."

"Wouldn't dream of it." The older angel laughed, "Stay safe, Arthur."

A with that, Francis was gone. Disappearing as angels did from the human world, back into what was a more stable reality for them.

Arthur sighed again, settling down besides the boys and allowing his wings to fold behind him in a more comfortable position. He supposed they were sweet, playing outside together despite their rowdiness. They seemed to be enjoying the game they were playing. Although, Arthur was glad that none of the mud that was being thrown would hit him, because the brothers truly were filthy by this point in their antics.

"Hey, Mattie!" The louder of the two suddenly jumped up, pointing at something white in the grass. "Look at that feather!"

Arthur knew what was coming before the poor boy even turned around. And sure enough, just as the quieter of the two brothers turned his head, a huge clump of dirt hit him, turning his blonde hair a quite disgusting shade of brown.

"Al!" The boy cried out, trying to wipe it out of his eyes where it had splashed. "That wasn't fair! You cheated!"

"It's not cheating if you fell for it!" The other boy rolled about, grinning widely to himself, and covering himself in the filth in the process. "It's just a game, anyway."

"Alfred!" A woman appeared in the doorway leading back into the house, "I won't have you throwing mud at each other. Look at the mess you've made." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Come inside boys and we'll get you both cleaned up before your dad gets home."

She was a slightly portly woman, Arthur noted, but had a kind look about her. Definitely the boys' mother. They had the same golden blonde hair as her, but only one of them shared her violet tinged eyes.

"We're going to have to wash your hair, Matthew." She shook her head, frowning at the boy who had thrown the dirt. "I'm glad you two had fun, but I don't know what you were thinking. And you can stop grinning about it, Alfred. You should be a better example for your little brother. I won't have the two of you dragging dirt through the house."

Alfred stuck his tongue out, throwing his shoes to one side and ran into the house, still laughing like he had no care in the world.

He seemed like a little terror to Arthur, giggling away like that. This child simply exuded confidence. Most definitely not the usual attitude of one being targeted by dark forces.

"Must be the other one then." Arthur bit his lip, watching Matthew take his own shoes off and follow his mother into the house.

•••

It wasn't long before Arthur had learnt all that he needed to know about the boys' personalities.

Alfred Jones was boisterous and a troublemaker, always craving to be the centre of attention ahead of his younger brother. He was only eight, but was already extremely popular in school, got good grades for his age and was good at sports.

Matthew, on the other hand, was quiet and well behaved. He got on well with his brother but always seemed to be in need of protection despite only being a year younger. While he was still pretty much as good as Alfred was at everything, he didn't have as many of his own friends and seemed to live in his brother's shadow. Arthur had only been watching the boys for a few days and he was already positive that it was indeed Matthew that he was meant to be protecting. The boy was timid and shy – traits that were all too often common in those that were being targeted by the darkness.

Even watching Matthew now was somewhat troubling. He was always by himself, not including Arthur, who minded him at all times, never making an effort to make his own friends and only ever sticking by Alfred. Every couple of days his teacher would take him to one side at lunchtime and ask him if he was doing okay, if he was finding things difficult, but he would always answer with a smile that he was doing fine and that he was enjoying himself in school, but when he was by himself he was lonely and looked tired – though that may have been due to his brother's abundance of energy wearing him out.

"Hey, Mattie!" Arthur started, looking up from Matthew to see Alfred running towards them across the playground, followed by a few of his friends.

Matthew smiled, standing up from the swing he had perched on to wait for his brother. It had been a particularly uneventful day, in Arthur's opinion. Matthew had had a quiz in his maths class, played around with Alfred during the break and then gone on to his afternoon classes without much care. It was only now, at the end of the day, that he really started to look worn out.

"Let's get going." Alfred grinned, tugging on Matthew's arm. "There's this _really_ awesome thing we've gotta try when we get back. The guys just showed me and it's amazing!"

"Okay." Matthew followed on behind the group of friends as they jabbered on about whatever it was they had just done, not really paying any attention to the youngest boy.

Eventually the group of friends all went their separate ways, leaving Alfred and Matthew to walk down the lane to their house by themselves. Normally Arthur wouldn't like the idea of the child he was protecting to be walking home at such a young age, but with Alfred there as well, he was surprisingly relaxed. It was as if the older boy's confidence was contagious.

"Here's close enough." Alfred stopped, turning to face Matthew with an even wider smile spreading across his face.

"Close enough for what?" Matthew took a couple of steps back, instinctively wary of Alfred's concept of fun, and his tricks usually ending up worse for him, instead of the one instigating them.

"For the thing I wanted to show you."

Matthew frowned, taking another few steps away from Alfred again. "Okay."

"Come here then." Alfred held out his fist as if it was the most normal thing in the world to do.

"Promise it won't hurt."

"Of course." Alfred smirked, "Come take a look. It won't hurt, I swear."

Matthew faltered for a few moments longer, and then leant over to look down at Alfred's hand. "What is it?"

Arthur couldn't help but clap a hand to his head as it happened, letting out a great sigh when Matthew yelled out and Alfred howled with laughter as his brother clutched his forehead where he had flicked it.

"I can't believe you fell for it!" Alfred snorted, hauling his school bag back on. "I mean, it was _so_ obvious!"

"You said it wouldn't hurt!" Matthew moaned, rubbing his head.

"It didn't hurt. I'm not hurt at all, see?" Alfred sniggered, giving Matthew another playful punch to the arm.

"You're mean, Al!"

Arthur crouched down, inspecting the rather painful looking bruise blooming on Matthew's forehead. "Poor lad." He ran a hand over it, knowing full well that the young boy had no idea that he was there.

He looked up at Alfred and, for a split second, he could have sworn that he was staring back at him. Then the boy laughed again and pulled Matthew forward along the path again. "Just don't fall for it next time." He grinned, "At least it was me instead of the others. I went easy on you 'cause I'm a hero."

The smile was wiped off Alfred's face, however, when they got home and their mother spotted the mark on Matthew's forehead, and promptly sent Alfred to his room. Matthew, on the other hand, was sat down at the kitchen counter with a bowl of ice cream to make up for his brother's bullying.

"I honestly don't know what to do with him." Mrs Jones groaned down the telephone, speaking to the boys' father. "The boys get along fine, but Alfred just takes things too far with his jokes."

Matthew watched his mother, waiting until she wasn't looking at him before he slipped out of the room with his bowl.

Arthur followed him up the stairs, wondering what on earth the boy was doing.

"Al!" Matthew stopped in front of his brother's bedroom.

"Go away." Arthur couldn't help but laugh at the grumbled response. After all, it was the boy's own tricks that had landed him in time-out.

"But Al!"

"Go away, Matt!"

"You can have the ice cream." Matthew held out the bowl. "Mom gave me chocolate, and it's your favourite, and it's way too cold for me, so you can have it."

Arthur sighed. This boy was far too kind for his own good; it was no wonder his brother took advantage of him so easily.

"You're not kidding?" Alfred opened the door a crack, looking out at Matthew.

"Nope." Matthew smiled, holding out the bowl again. "It's kinda melted now, though."

"Thanks…" Alfred let the door swing open, taking the bowl from Matthew. He shuffled from one foot to the other, not looking his younger brother in the eye. "Sorry about hitting you before."

"That's okay." Matthew leant down so that Alfred could see his smile. "You were only playing, right?"

Arthur couldn't help but find the boys endearing. Over the next few days they carried on acting like this, with Alfred getting into trouble almost constantly, both at school and at home, and Matthew bailing him out or coming to comfort him every time. The boy was unusually kind, compared to other young boys who would usually fight with their brothers non-stop.

More often than not, despite having separate rooms, Alfred would sneak into Matthew's bed after their parents thought they were asleep, using the excuse that he was going to protect Matthew from the monsters in the night, however Arthur suspected that it was actually Alfred who was scared of these make believe monsters.

This night was no different. Arthur sat at the end of the bed, watching the two sleep peacefully, wrapped up in Matthew's blankets. It was in these times when Arthur realised just how alike the boys really were. It was no wonder their teachers at school almost always got them mixed up, despite them having a year's age difference.

Arthur smiled, leaning over and brushing Matthew's hair out of his eyes as the boy slept. As he drew back, however, Alfred stirred, screwing his eyes up as he woke up.

Arthur snapped his hand back to his chest, praying that it wasn't his movement that had woken the boy, even if Alfred couldn't actually see him.

As Alfred blinked, however, adjusting his eyes to the dark room, Arthur could tell that his worries had been unjust.

Usually both boys would sleep through until the morning with no trouble at all. Especially Alfred, who in all manners of speaking, slept like a log, so it wasn't surprising that Arthur felt the need to follow him as he crept out of the bed and to the door.

When Alfred opened the door, though, Arthur's mere curiosity as to what the boy was doing turned into full blown panic.

The hallway was half bathed in an orange glow, and the usual silence was marred by a fierce crackling that Arthur was shocked that he couldn't hear from the other side of the door.

He left Alfred's side, knowing only too well what the source of the disturbance was, and sure enough, before he reached the end of the corridor, the immense heat washed over him and he could see the flames licking at the walls.

What he wasn't prepared for was the streak that dashed past him as Alfred ran down the corridor. Arthur could only stand there in horror as the boy started pounding on a door just short of the growing fire, trying to tug on the door knob but snatching his hand back when it burned.

"Mom!" Alfred yelled over the roar, "Mom! Fire! The house is on fire!"

There was a crash from the other side and Arthur could see the glow spreading through the crack under the door. He would have given anything to be able to reach out and snatch the boy back, but he wasn't his charge. He could only wish that his parents were still there to tell their child to get back to where it was safe and escape as quickly as he could with his brother in tow.

"Mom!"

"Alfred?!" The boys' mother's voice was suddenly there, and she was also trying to force the door open from her side, along with the shouts of their father. She was choking on the smoke as she continued to call out to her son. "Alfred, you've got to get out of the house! Take Mattie with you and get out!"

"But Mom!"

"Dad and I'll be fine! Just get Matt and get out!"

There was another shout and Arthur had to force himself not to drag the boy back the way they had come, but he needn't have done so, because Alfred turned on his heel and ran back to Matthew's bedroom, slamming the door wide open as he went.

"Matt, wake up! Wake up!" He jumped onto the bed, shaking his brother until he opened his eyes. "Wake up!"

"I'm awake, Al!" Matthew tried to push his older brother off, but stopped when he saw the flames now threatening to enter through his own door. "What's going-?!"

"The house is on fire!" Alfred was practically hysterical, trying to drag Matthew out of the room, then thinking better of it when he saw how close the fire had gotten. "We need to get out!"

"We can't get out!" Matthew had tears in his eyes and clung to Alfred, trying to stop him from dragging him any further. "What about Mom and Dad?!"

"They said to get out!" Alfred was crying. This boy who was forever smiling like sunshine was crying and choking on the smoke. "I dunno what to do, Matt!"

The flames were getting close, and moving far too fast for them to be natural, in Arthur's opinion. There was a dark shadow accompanying it along the hallway outside that was just too ominous to ignore, and Arthur slammed the bedroom door shut, anticipating the worst from it, trying not to feel too guilty at the brothers' flinches and yelps at his action.

They had huddled on the bed, staying together in the chaos. There was so much noise around them that they were practically deafened by it.

Arthur stood by them, attempting to block out the heat licking at his skin and wings, and the smoke that was screeching through his system. He knew that it would only be so long before the shadow would pass through the door, so long before there would be a threat even more dangerous than the fire, and that had caused the madness in the first place. These flames were meant to kill.

And then he saw it. A dark force creeping its way through the crack under the door, moving slowly until it formed a tall mass in the centre of the room, and still inched closer every second.

Arthur acted without thinking, throwing himself over the two boys to protect them from the shadow.

He didn't know if it was by instinct or not, but Alfred clutched Matthew tighter to himself under the angel, even if he couldn't see Arthur. It was as if he could feel him there without knowing it.

Despite no longer having the shadow in his sight, he could still feel it as it whipped over to the bed, trying to force its way past the barrier that Arthur had created between it and the boys with his own boy.

It screeched, pounding against Arthur's back, between his wings, ripping at his tunic and feathers. But Arthur would not yield. He couldn't. Not when there was so much at stake, and there was no way in heaven that he was going to let that _thing_ get to the ones he was protecting.

But that didn't stop him from biting down on his lip in pain as it clawed down his spine, letting his blood flow freely in the raw heat of the burning building. It continued to dig into him, creating more and more wounds and making it ever harder for Arthur to cry out, no matter how much he willed himself not to. Demon shadows were as ruthless as their masters when it came to causing pain, and this one was determined to cause Arthur as much pain as possible.

And then he felt it grasp around one of his wings, yanking as hard as its strength would allow. Feathers fell around them, burning as the flames around the room sent embers down from the ceiling.

Black spots were starting to form in Arthur's vision and he scrunched his eyes up in the effort not to blank out and leave the brothers at the mercy of this creature. He was _not_ going to let them down.

It jerked at his wing again, letting more of his white feathers fall onto the bed around them, each of them getting dotted with blood and ash before it gave one final wrench.

Arthur screamed. He couldn't help it. He felt the very fibres of his skin tear as his wing was ripped clean off, letting blood pour from his back onto the bed, where it pooled unnoticed by the two boys he was crouching over.

The creature was laying into them now, getting ever closer as Arthur got weaker and fought not to pass out.

He could feel its breath on the side of his neck, reaching around him and edging closer to his charges.

He could faintly hear sirens and shouting from outside, and some even louder crashing coming from downstairs, but everything was starting to sound the same as the flames were now roaring through the burning door and walls.

This was all drowned out, though, as Alfred yelled out, and Arthur drew the two boys in as the ceiling splintered and fell on top of him as he shielded them.

His body was a mass of pain as the burning wood weighed down on him. It felt as if he was melting from the heat, but he had to stay upright. There were people in the house now. He could hear them. They were going to save the boys.

The shadow was gone. He could no longer feel it near them.

But that didn't matter now. It was getting too hard to fight away the darkness that was creeping into his vision.

The last thing Arthur remembered was the crash of the door being forced open and men's voices filling the room, and a pair of hands supporting him as the wreckage was pulled off of him as the firemen found the two boys.

•••

Arthur cracked his eyes open to a sterile, white room that he didn't recognise, and promptly clenched them closed again as his body ached.

"How are you feeling?" Francis leaned down over him, blocking out whatever view he had of the pristine ceiling.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur groaned, sitting up and peering around him, but not really taking in his surroundings. "Where're the boys? What happened?"

"Arthur, calm down." Francis pushed him back down, eliciting a hiss from the other angel, "You will only injure yourself further. The boys are over there with the nurse. They are fine, thanks to you. Only a couple of minor scratches and burns. Nothing serious."

Arthur sighed, placing a hand over his eyes in relief. "Thank goodness."

Francis frowned, helping Arthur as he pushed himself back up. "What on earth were you thinking, Arthur? That was a reckless act. You're lucky you are still here."

"Speaking of here," Arthur looked around the room, his eyes settling on the two boys sitting on a bed on the opposite side of the room with a nurse, "how did we get to the hospital?"

"I brought you here with the boys, of course." Francis stretched his arms out behind him. "It is your job to watch over them, is it not? It would be irresponsible for me to leave you behind while they were rescued from the flames."

"How long has it been?"

"Little over a day. The doctors have said that the brothers are fine, however…" Francis drifted off, a pained expression crossing his features.

"However, what?" Arthur asked, looking over at the boys, watching the nurse place a hand on Matthew's shoulder. "What happened, Francis?"

"Arthur, you did everything expected of you-"

"What _happened_, Francis?"

Francis sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Their parents died, Arthur. The firemen were too late getting to them."

He slumped against the wall. Their parents had died. They hadn't made it.

Arthur looked over to his charges, looking so drained. But out of the two, Alfred looked the worst. Matthew had his arm around his older brother in an ineffective way of comforting him, along with the nurse, but he just looked so, well, unlike himself. His jubilant, boisterous self had been replaced by a mere shell of the boy Arthur had gotten used to seeing.

The demons had gotten at least some of their job done. The boys weren't dead. But they most certainly were more vulnerable this way.

"Arthur, you cannot blame yourself." Francis spoke up, trying to break Arthur out of his reverie. "There was nothing more you could do. The shadow was strong. You couldn't have known."

Arthur slapped him away, glaring at the floor. "I should have realised something was wrong."

"Arthur, it was masking itself-"

"I let my guard down!"

"Get a hold of yourself!" Francis shouted, grasping Arthur's shoulders and shaking him slightly. "What's done is done. There is nothing that can change that. Your power is still regenerating while your wing heals, you mustn't overexert yourself."

Arthur stopped, clenching his eyes shut, but not fighting against the force that Francis was putting on him.

"Nurse?" Another woman stood in the doorway. "May I have a couple of words?"

The nurse with Alfred and Matthew nodded, motioning for her to come to the side of the room where the unseen angels were standing, and watching.

"What is it?" She whispered, trying not to be overheard by the two boys.

"Mr Väinämöinen from the orphanage is here to pick up the two boys." The nurse glanced over at the boys, frowning slightly. "Don't you think it's too soon for them to be moved?"

"They don't have any other family. They need somewhere stable that has the means of taking care of them. We don't have the facilities to care for them here for a long period of time."

"I know that." The nurse hissed, "I just think that, seeing as they've just lost their parents, they need some more time to accept it before they get carted off somewhere else."

"The sooner they get into a stable environment, the sooner they will be able to come to terms with their new circumstances. We had better not keep Mr Väinämöinen waiting too long. Show him in."

"You know, sometimes I think you don't care at all about the kids that come through here." She stormed off, shooting one last worried look at Alfred and Matthew before disappearing around the doorframe.

"Good news, boys." The first nurse made her way back over to them, kneeling down so that she was at their eyelevel and gave them an encouraging smile. "A man has just arrived to take you to your new home. Isn't that exciting?"

Matthew let out a small sob and Alfred buried his face further into his younger brother's shoulder.

•••

Tino Väinämöinen was a nice enough man, Arthur decided.

The Finnish man and his Swedish partner, Berwald, ran the smallish orphanage on the outskirts of the town not too far from where the boys had lived, and they knew a few of the other children from school.

There was a large garden with a swing-set and slide as well as the building itself, where Alfred and Matthew had been given a bedroom to share with each other.

Francis had been staying to keep an eye on Arthur until he was sure that he had healed enough to care for the boys by himself, and although Arthur was none too pleased with this new arrangement, he could do little to argue as he had still not fully recovered after his run in with the demons.

Matthew, much to both of the angels' surprise, had seemed to adapt to his new surroundings easily enough. He played with the other children, making the most of the company and keeping himself busy.

Alfred, on the other hand, was faring much worse. He tended to stay cooped up in their bedroom, not coming out even at meal times, which usually meant that Tino or one of the other carers would have to bring food up to him and try and coax him into eating.

He also wasn't sleeping at night, instead tossing and turned under his sheets until sheer exhaustion won out. Though this was short lived as he often jerked awake soon afterwards, screaming and tears pouring down his cheeks.

Arthur couldn't imagine what the nightmares must have been like, but he had long left Matthew in Francis's care so that he could perch next to Alfred in some attempt to soothe the boy even if he didn't know that the angel was there.

"His nightmares are getting worse?" Francis asked one day as Arthur sat next to Alfred's sleeping form.

Alfred had finally fallen into a sound sleep sometime around dawn, and hadn't yet woken up, but that didn't stop Arthur from being concerned.

"Yes." He sighed, stretching out his newly grown wing. "I know what's causing them, but can't for the life of me figure out how to prevent them from happening."

"Matthew gets a few." Francis frowned, "But they do not affect him like they do his brother. It's an unusual situation, I admit. We still do not know which of them we are meant to protect and if this remains, then we may not be able to protect either of them."

"I know." Arthur ran his hand over the pillow next to Alfred's head, his brows knitting together. The thought of either of the boys coming into harm's way was unspeakable, but with how poorly Alfred was fairing, there was the chance that her wouldn't last too much longer, and that was the worst thought of all.

They couldn't let these boys die.

•••

It was a month before the boys went back to school, what with their new living arrangements, and everything that had happened since the fire.

Needless to say, they were both behind in their studies, but this posed no real problem. It was their friends that caused the most trouble. Especially Alfred's.

Arthur was appalled by how cruel some children could be. He had seen it before, and even as times had moved on since he had last stepped foot in the human world, the antics of the young had not.

Francis had followed Matthew to his classroom in the year below, leaving Arthur to watch as the bullying got progressively worse as the week wore on. The boys who had once joined Alfred in his harmless troublemaking were now not being anything less than malicious, aiming at the things that hurt Alfred the most. It was only a matter of time before things escalated.

"You think we still want to hang out with you?" One of the boys jeered, shoving Alfred backwards into the window ledge. "You're crazy."

Alfred stayed quiet and the boy pushed him again to the laughs of the others. He balled his fists and stared at his feet, letting his hair fall over his eyes so that they couldn't see his face.

"You're no fun." The boy huffed, knocking Alfred back another step.

"Hey!" Matthew had dashed into the room, closely followed by Francis, who settled next to Arthur, mirroring the worried look he had across his face.

"What's going on?"

"The usual, I'm afraid." Arthur muttered, his frown deepening.

"Leave him alone!" Matthew was pulling on the boy's arm, trying to drag him away from his older brother.

"So now you've got this wimp looking out for you?" The boy knocked Matthew out of the way, blocking the younger brother's path to Alfred. "That's seriously uncool, man."

The other boys laughed and sneered at the two brothers, making sure that Matthew couldn't move towards Alfred, but that didn't stop Arthur from getting closer.

But he had realised too late. The black haze that was sticking to the other boys and slowly moving towards Alfred.

His eyes widened and spread his wings to get himself across the room faster, but not fast enough as the boy pushed Alfred again, even harder, so that he lost his balance and stumbled backwards, tripping over the chair in front of the window.

Time seemed to slow as Arthur watched it happen. The shadow allowing the window to swing open and giving Alfred the final push so that he lost his balance and fell, not even letting out a sound of surprise as gravity caught him.

Arthur yelled, letting his wings carry him even faster so that he followed Alfred's form out of the window, ignoring the sting of the demon that tried to grab him. He had to catch him. He wouldn't let him die.

He willed himself to fly faster, folding his wings in so that he could move faster. They had been four floors up. He could catch Alfred. He _could_.

His eyes were streaming from the wind rushing past him, but he didn't close them. Arthur stretched his arm out as far as he could in front of him, searching for Alfred's form in front of him and hoping that he hadn't been too slow. Just the slightest hint of a form would be enough.

And then Arthur felt it, and relief flooded him as he grasped Alfred's arm and pulled him to his chest, rolling them over in mid-air and spreading his wings out to stop the fall mere inches before they hit the asphalt below the window.

Someone was shouting from up above and there were unknown faces staring out of every window, but the most important thing to Arthur wasn't the faces of the people who couldn't see him, but that of the small boy in his arms, clinging to his robe and staring straight up at him with his big blue eyes. Alfred could see him, could feel him, could hear the harsh breaths that he was letting out as he clung to him, even after finally landing safely on the ground. But Arthur didn't care. He had saved him. He had saved Alfred. Alfred. It was Alfred, not Matthew. It was Alfred all along. He could see it now. The little boy who was trying hard to be brave and look after his brother when he really needed someone to look after him as well. And that was his role. He was the one who was meant to protect him. He finally realised that now.

"You're an angel." Alfred's voice brought his attention back and Arthur realised that the boy was still staring at him. "You're the one I keep seeing."

This time it was Arthur's turn to stare, "You've seen me before?" Alfred nodded numbly. "When?"

"Sometimes when I wake up in the night, and…" Alfred trailed off, his voice dropping so that it was barely audible, "in the fire. You were there stopping it from getting to us." He looked into Arthur's all too puzzled face, "Who are you?"

Arthur let the frown that had formed on his face lessen, loosening his grip on Alfred slightly, "I'm Arthur. I'm here to protect you."

"I'm not a baby." Alfred frowned, but didn't move.

"I know." Arthur smiled, brushing the hair out of Alfred's eyes, "You're so brave, Alfred. But you're not alone."

When the teachers came running out of the school the sight may have looked strange to them. After all, it would have looked as if Alfred was clinging onto thin air as the tears ran down his face. But it was Arthur he was holding onto. Arthur who was holding onto him as well, rubbing circles into his back, with that calm, peaceful smile on his face that told Alfred that everything was going to be okay.

And neither of them let go of each other until Alfred heard Matthew's voice as his brother barrelled out of the school building with the teachers, and Francis landed neatly beside Arthur, placing a hand on his shoulder as his way of letting the other angel know that he had indeed, done the right thing.

•••

The weeks passed and Alfred's sleeping pattern improved quickly and his nightmares became rare. This was helped by the fact that Arthur stayed with him almost constantly, watching over him day and night, and sometimes laying down next to Alfred so that he would have someone there in case he got scared.

It didn't matter that no one else could see Arthur. He didn't mind that so much because it made him special. He could see the angel that had been protecting him all this time. He could talk to him and play games with him and he was there when no one else was. But that didn't stop him from being curious. Arthur had lost count of the number of times that Alfred had asked him why Matthew couldn't see him as well, and the answer was always the same, "You already do a good enough job protecting him, Alfred, he doesn't need to see me."

With Alfred's change in mood, he'd also been able to settle down better in the orphanage. He came down for meals and played with the other children, finally getting to know them better, but also getting used to the notion that they would come and go as adoptions would take place. Some of them stayed for longer than others, but Alfred was quite happy where he was now. He didn't want new parents.

"You two have really gotten attached to each other." Francis glanced down at Arthur from where he was standing over them from their position on the orphanage roof.

It was a few days after Alfred's eleventh birthday, and Arthur had been with him for going on three years now. The boys were playing with some of the younger children as the two angels watched from above, making sure that they didn't get into any trouble.

"Is all you ever do interfere in other people's affairs?" Arthur frowned, stretching his wings out behind him.

"Getting too close is not good, Arthur. Your surroundings will become unclear."

"It's been fine thus far, has it not?"

"Thus far, yes." Francis crossed his arms, "But even we cannot tell the future, Arthur. You need to be more aware of what is around you, not just the child you are caring for."

"I know that." Arthur sighed, pushing himself away from the building and letting himself drift down to the ground next to Alfred, a small smile taking over the scowl he had been wearing before.

"He is but a fool." Francis muttered, shaking his head as he spread his wings and took to the air.

•••

"Matt still thinks that you don't exist." Alfred said, lying back on his bed next to Arthur.

The boys really had grown up over the past few years. Alfred was nearing fourteen and it was definitely starting to show. He was getting to be as tall as Arthur and his voice had dropped a few tones since he had hit puberty. Honestly, he was really starting to turn into a young man, rather than just a boy.

"And what did you say to that?" Arthur smiled, rolling to the side so that he could see Alfred properly.

"That he's dumb." Alfred huffed, pouting slightly. "I mean, it's not like you're imaginary or anything. Why can't you just let him see you?"

"We've been through this, Al." Arthur ruffled his hair, still smiling. "It's not up to me who can see me or not. It was all decided beforehand."

"I'd like to find who decided and show them who's boss." Alfred smirked, jabbing at the air.

"So they'll end up being boss anyway." Arthur laughed, pushing Alfred's fists back down. "Come on, now. You've got school in the morning."

"Yes, mom." Alfred stuck his tongue out, stretching out more on the bed so that Arthur had less space.

"Who're you talking to?" Matthew closed the door behind him, pulling the towel off of his wet hair. "You're imaginary friend again?"

"He's not imaginary, Matt!" Alfred sat up, falling for his brother's baiting.

"Don't you think you're too old for this, Al?"

"Matt, he's right there!" Alfred pointed to Arthur next to him, glaring at his brother who had crossed to his own bed.

"Whatever. I'm too tired to argue, Al."

Matthew shut off the lamp next to his bed, pulling the covers over himself and turning to face the wall.

It wasn't unusual for the two brothers to argue over Arthur's existence. In fact, it had gotten to be part of their daily routine in the years that Arthur had spent by Alfred's side.

It had been since one time when Alfred had followed Arthur up to the roof of the building and had been spotted by one of the younger children, who had screamed, thinking that Alfred was going to jump. Alfred had only been nine at the time, and hadn't had Arthur alongside him for long. He had still been fascinated by the angel that was living with him, so it had seemed only natural to follow him.

Needless to say, this explanation had not sat well with the carers, and Arthur had been more aware of whether the boy was following behind him or not when he was planning on going somewhere where Alfred definitely should _not_ be.

Matthew had been on edge of his brother ever since, not believing him about the angel's existence even when he was young and fairly impressionable.

Even after years of Alfred insisting that Arthur was right there in front of him, Matthew refused to believe him. After all, why should he believe that angels were real?

Arthur felt Alfred shift around in the dark, pulling his own covers over him and settling down against his pillow.

For a while they both lay still, listening to the silence in the dark. It was only when Alfred heard his brother's breathing even out that he inched slightly closer to Arthur, tugging on the angel's robe, "You are real, right?" His voice was quiet, and slightly shaky, betraying the brave front that Alfred always tried to show.

Arthur let a sad smile slip onto his features, pulling Alfred's head against his chest and stroking a hand through the boy's hair. "Believe what's in front of your eyes, Al. If you can see me, then of course I'm real."

•••

"You have a couple of visitors, boys." Tino leant on the table next to where Alfred and Matthew were competing to see who could finish their homework the fastest.

"Not interested." Alfred replied almost immediately, only looking up for a second to grin at the carer who was rapidly getting shorter than the two of them.

Tino sighed, shaking his head at nothing in particular. It was an exchange they had been through far too many times.

"Come on now, it would be rude to leave them waiting, they've come an awful long way to come and see you."

Matthew looked up from his textbook, chewing on his pen lid, "Where've they come from?"

"They've driven down from Canada." Tino smiled, ignoring Alfred's huff as he slumped his head down on the table.

"Are you serious?" Matthew sat up a bit straighter, "Why would they come all the way here?"

"Heavens if I know." Tino laughed, "But it wouldn't do to keep them waiting. What do you say? Come and meet them?"

"Sure." Matthew pushed his chair back and stood up, nudging Alfred to do the same. "C'mon Al."

"Not _interested_." Alfred buried his head further in his arms, refusing to budge.

"Don't be sure a baby! C'mon!" Matthew pulled his brother off his chair, rolling his eyes when Alfred tried to make himself as heavy as possible in protest, but was ultimately dragged away.

"Be on your best behaviour." Arthur whispered into his charge's ear as they entered the meeting room, ignoring the way that Alfred stuck his tongue out in response and hoping that the couple sitting on the other side of the table wouldn't take it personally.

They weren't a young couple, but were probably around the right age for them to have children the age of the brothers. They did, however, look as if they would definitely _not_ be in favour of Alfred's more mischievous antics.

This was soon proven right when Alfred started swinging back on his chair, only to topple backwards, taking Matthew with him when he landed on the floor, his fall only broken by Arthur when the angel caught him with a hand behind his head. Matthew had apologised for the two of them, straightening out his shirt again while Alfred just laughed, not caring at all about the disapproving gaze of the couple.

When the meeting finally ended and Alfred and Matthew were allowed to return to their homework, Arthur hung back to listen to Tino talk to the couple, as he always did when the brother's futures were involved. Some of the couples in the past had been nice, but were usually put off by the boisterous older brother, and didn't want to split the two of them up, and so left without adopting either, much to Alfred's delight.

"We're in no position to adopt both of them." The woman announced as soon as the door closed behind Tino, "It would be impractical."

Tino sat in the chair that Matthew had vacated, folding his hands together on the table. "We don't plan on splitting them up, I'm afraid. Alfred and Matthew are extremely close."

"We have taken quite a shine to Matthew." Her husband waved her down, "He seems like a good boy, very bright. But I don't think that we would be able handle his brother. And I don't know whether we would be able to support both of them."

"It's completely out of the question that we adopt the older brother. He wouldn't suit our life style at all." The woman started again, collecting her things up.

"I'd have to discuss it with the boys." Tino nodded, standing up to shake their hands. "I assume that you will visit again while you are staying in the country?"

"Of course." The husband smiled, taking Tino's hand, "We'll be in touch."

Arthur frowned as they passed him. He had a bad feeling about these two. He just hoped that his hunch was wrong or there was going to be a _lot_ of trouble in store.

•••

"No _way!_" Alfred stormed into their bedroom, Matthew close behind him. "So they want to split us up? Not happening. No."

"Al, they were nice." Matthew argued, sitting on their desk chair. "Maybe if you'd stopped playing around you would've seen that too."

"What? So you wanna go and live with them?" Alfred glared at this brother, clenching his fists into his pillow.

"I didn't say that!"

They sat there in silence for a while, Arthur rubbing circles into Alfred's back while his charge continued to glare at nothing.

The couple came again a couple of days later, only seeing Matthew this time while Alfred sat fuming in their bedroom, refusing to leave for the rest of the day, even when they had left and Matthew had come up to fetch him. It was the first time since they had first arrived at the orphanage that Alfred had refused to go downstairs for dinner, eating by himself in their bedroom when Berwald brought his food up to him.

This pattern continued for several weeks, with the couple turning up at the orphanage at random times, and a few times unannounced. And while Matthew was becoming increasingly attached to them, Alfred was only secluding himself more.

It had been bearable until they had shown up at Alfred's fourteenth birthday party, insisting on taking Matthew out for the day as they had missed his thirteenth a few days before.

Needless to say that Alfred had stormed from the room and didn't speak to Matthew for nearly a week afterwards.

The brother's relationship was getting strained, and even Matthew, who was usually very patient and passive compared to Alfred, was starting to get short tempered. It seemed that not even a day could go by without them arguing anymore.

Arthur spent nearly all of his time trying to calm Alfred down, reassure him that Matthew did care about him. But, with Alfred being Alfred, this never seemed to go down the way that he had hoped. Things just seemed to keep going around in circles.

"Are they demons?" Alfred asked abruptly one day, still staring down at his homework that he hadn't touched for a good half hour.

"Alfred?" Arthur stared at him, not quite understanding where the boy was coming from.

"The Williams. Are they demons? 'Cause, you know, they're bent on adopting Matt, even when Tino said that they weren't gonna separate us. And Matt likes them. I just thought that, y'know, 'cause you said the demons were evil, maybe they're what's egging them on." Alfred frowned down at the maths in front of him, not really seeing the numbers.

"I don't think so, lad." Arthur sighed. "But I'll take a closer look next time they visit. I do agree that there isn't something quite right with all of this."

But even when the couple continued to visit Arthur couldn't sense a demonic aura coming from them. But his wariness was still growing. There had to be _something_ wrong with this couple to get his feathers riled up like this. Even Francis, who continued to visit from time to time, admitted that he felt something off but couldn't put his finger on it.

"They really want to adopt me." Matthew said one day a few weeks later on. It was mid-August and the boys were supposed to be helping one of the carers clear up after they had all decided to have a water fight in the orphanage's garden.

Alfred grunted in response, throwing another water pistol into the box after tipping the remaining water on the flowerbed.

"I talked to them last time." Matthew carried on, "And they said that if I really wanted, they would adopt you as well, if I really wanted. We wouldn't have to be split up. That's what you want, right?"

"No, I don't wanna be split up." Alfred's voice was low and he wouldn't meet his brother's eye. "But I don't want to be adopted either."

"Al, why are you so against having a family again?" Matthew groaned, pushing his own box against the wall for one of the carers to put away.

"We _are_ a family!" Alfred spun around to face his brother, "Just you, me, and Arthur! I don't want anyone else!"

Matthew almost laughed, covering his eyes with one hand, "When are you going to grow up, huh? When are you going to realise that you're too old for an imaginary friend?"

"You think I would keep going on about him this long if he were imaginary?!" Alfred shouted, forgetting that he was still holding a water pistol tipping the remaining contents on his own feet. "He's _real_, Matt!"

"If he were real then how come he didn't save mum and dad as well as us, like you said?!" Matthew had stopped all efforts not to shout and was yelling back at his brother, not caring that there were still some of the younger children around. "How come he didn't stop you from falling out of that window _before_ it happened?!"

"He can't be in two places at once, Matt! No one can!"

"Whatever, Al." Matthew turned his back on Alfred, heading back into the building, "I hope he makes you happy, 'cause I'm not going to be here for much longer."

•••

A few days later all the paperwork had been filled out and Matthew's bags were being packed into the back of the Williams' car.

The boys hadn't spoken since their argument. Alfred refused to be in the same room as his brother most of the time, barely standing having to sleep in the same room as Matthew.

Arthur could feel the tension surrounding the brothers, hardly knowing what to do other than make some attempt at comforting Alfred now that it was certain that Matthew was leaving and his surname was going to be Williams now instead of Jones. Alfred was barely talking to him as well, preferring to brood by himself instead of staying in the angel's company.

He didn't know what to do. Alfred was still vulnerable, and all this negative energy that was starting to circulate around was almost certain to attract the demons again. Arthur didn't know how much more exposure to the demons Alfred could take. It was too dangerous a risk, but he didn't know how to stop it from happening anymore.

"Alfred!" Matthew knocked on the bedroom door for what felt like the millionth time. "Come on, I don't want to leave on bad terms!"

Alfred carried on ignoring him, scribbling into his notebook instead.

"Alfred," Arthur perched on the desk next to him, "say goodbye to him, lad."

"Not a chance." Alfred hissed, glaring down at the paper in front of him.

"Don't do something that you're going to regret, Al. He's your brother. Nothing is going to change that." He ran a hand over Alfred's head, flattening down the stubborn flick that always stood up. "You know that."

Alfred shook off his hand, refusing to look at the angel and not budging from his chair.

Matthew's knocking eventually stopped, and Arthur slipped away to watch the younger boy walk out of the building, getting hugged by Tino as his new parents ushered him into the car, a comforting hand on his should from Mrs Williams as she closed the car door and climbed into the passenger seat.

"They're gone." He said as he returned to Alfred's bedroom to see that the boy hadn't moved an inch since he had left.

Alfred didn't respond, instead moving past the angel and out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

•••

Alfred refused to talk to Arthur for days. He wouldn't even look at the angel that accompanied him everywhere.

No matter how much Arthur tried to get Alfred to talk to him, nothing worked. Alfred almost went out of his way to ignore him, not caring whether Arthur was trying to comfort him or not. It was almost as if he couldn't even see Arthur anymore. And Arthur would certainly think so if Alfred wasn't shirting around him every time he walked past him.

Arthur found himself spending more and more time watching the boy from afar. There was just no way he could get close to Alfred while the boy was acting like this. All Arthur could offer was comfort, and that wasn't what Alfred wanted.

"Alfred, you can't stay like this forever." Arthur sat at the foot of Alfred's bed as the boy settled down under the covers. "It's not good for you."

Alfred shut out his lamp, staring out into the dark instead of answering.

"Why don't you try calling Matthew? Try and work things out with him?" He carried on, knowing full well that Alfred was listening even if he didn't want to talk to him. "He's still your brother, Alfred. Nothing is going to change that. You shouldn't cut him out of your life so easily."

He reached over, brushing some of Alfred's hair out of his eyes, only to have his hand slapped away.

"Alfred-"

"Do me a favour and shut up, Arthur." Alfred hissed, sitting up and glaring at the angel.

"Alfred, I just think-" Arthur stood up, standing in front of Alfred so that he could see the boy better.

"I don't care what you think." Alfred tried not to shout, but couldn't help but raise his voice, finally losing his temper with Arthur. "I really don't care. This was all your fault. If it wasn't for _you_ then Matt wouldn't have left! If it wasn't for _you_ then we wouldn't have fought all the time! And you know what? I'm starting to think that Matt was right to begin with. Maybe you're not even real. Maybe I made you up 'cause of what happened back then."

"Alfred, how can you believe that?" Arthur kept his voice level, trying to keep calm.

"Easily." Alfred huffed, pulling the covers back over himself. "I don't want to see you. I just want to be like everyone else. So just leave me alone."

"Alfred, you-"

"Go away!" Alfred did shout this time, positively seething at Arthur who was now standing wide-eyed in front of him.

Arthur took a few steps back, not knowing how to react to Alfred's outburst. He'd never heard Alfred speak like that before. It was more than just a shock.

He waited there in the dark, watching as Alfred huffed again, turning over under the covers so that he faced the wall rather than the angel, standing in the shadows instead of in the dim light that was visible through the curtains.

Eventually the boy's breathing evened out and Arthur approached him again, kneeling at the side of the bed as Alfred slept.

He didn't know what to do. Maybe this was just a phase while Alfred dealt with his brother leaving. But with everything that had happened in the past weeks since Matthew had announced that he was leaving Arthur was almost positive that Alfred had most definitely thought all of this through, and he genuinely didn't want Arthur near him anymore.

But it was too early for him to leave Alfred just yet. If he did then the demons would be sure to kill the boy as soon as Arthur was out of reach, and he wasn't about to let that happen.

•••

Alfred groaned as he woke up, looking around his bedroom. "Arthur?" He expected the angel to be there, just as he had been every morning for the last six years, but he was nowhere to be seen. "Arthur?"

Arthur sat on Matthew's empty bed, a sad smile on his face as Alfred searched the room for him, knowing that the boy wouldn't find him. But he was better off this way. Alfred would be able to live a life like all the other children, unable to see the angel anymore, and Arthur would be able to continue to protect him while keeping himself hidden from sight.

He ignored the look on Alfred's face when the boy realised that Arthur wasn't there. He would get used to it. After all, this way, not only could he now live a normal life, be maybe he could reconcile with Matthew. He could believe that he had imagined Arthur, and life would go on.

Arthur's own happiness had nothing to do with it.

•••

Life went on. Though Arthur's reason for it was quickly getting further and further from him.

Alfred had finally closed the inches between them and kept getting taller, growing more and more into a man as the months passed.

Arthur kept telling himself to distance himself from his charge, but as each day went by he found himself getting drawn in closer, wanting to erase the gap again. But he couldn't give into those urges. Not now that Alfred's life had a semblance of normality.

But that didn't stop the tinge of jealousy he felt every time he saw Alfred with yet another girl from school. He had tried to banish the feeling so many times, but each time he did, it came back again but a thousand times stronger than before. It was verging on unbearable.

Alfred was one of the eldest children at the orphanage now, not evening gaining much interested from prospective parents anymore, but that suited him just fine. Just like it suited him that no one was made to share a room with him after Matthew had left. He had his privacy and the other kids had peace and quiet. What more could they want?

"You love him, don't you?" Francis said, landing next to Arthur on the roof of the orphanage.

It was the middle of the night, and everyone had long since gone to bed, leaving Arthur to wander the few corridors back to his perch on the roof. It was cool, but not cold, and only the moon broke through the darkness when it emerged from behind the clouds. It was the perfect time for him to think.

"Buzz off, Francis." Arthur scowled, but his words had no bite to them. Lately he was just too tired to get angry. He was too tired for anything much.

"You have to _stop_, Arthur." Francis sat himself down next to the other angel, making no attempt to hide the concern in his own voice. "This is getting too much for you."

"I can handle it." Arthur bit out, not meeting his friend's eyes.

"Arthur, you are _dying_."

"I can handle it!" Arthur shouted, screwing his eyes shut and clenching the roof ledge until his knuckles turned white. He was breathing a lot harder than he should have been, but that wasn't important. The only thing that mattered was currently wrapped up in bed, two floors below them.

"Alright, Arthur, I understand." Francis stood, giving Arthur a strained look as he stood once more. "But I will not hesitate to interfere if matters continue to grow worse."

He flew away, leaving Arthur alone once more on the roof of the old orphanage.

And Arthur realised all at once, that this was what it was like to feel truly alone.

•••

A few more weeks passed and with each day Arthur was finding it harder to carry on following Alfred.

Every step, every stretch of his wings, was exhausting.

He no longer had the strength to fly. He barely even had it in him to walk, but forced himself to keep going, keeping Alfred in his mind at all times. After all, he was what was important. He was who needed to be kept safe. And Arthur kept putting what little strength he had into making sure that Alfred still couldn't see him. The boy's happiness was the beacon that kept him going. It was his silver lining.

But it wasn't enough.

Arthur couldn't stop it from happening when he found himself on the ground beneath his usual spot on the roof. He had keeled forwards, falling the few floors into the garden below, and no longer had the strength to push himself back up again.

It was over.

He felt them start to land around him, the light touches of feet on the earth, and the sound of their wings cutting through the night air.

Francis was the first to show his face, crouching down in front of him, the worry etched into his features as he helped to draw Arthur back up into a sitting position.

"I'm sorry, my friend." He began, brushing the dirt out of Arthur's hair, "But this has gone far enough."

There were hands all over him, pulling Arthur up and supporting his weight as they left the ground. It was only when he felt completely weightless that he realised just what was happening.

"What are you doing?" He rushed, looking frantically back down at the orphanage growing smaller beneath them.

"Saving your life." Francis said firmly, making sure that his grip on the weakened angel was tight, despite Arthur's lack of strength. "It won't be long until we pass through the barrier into our world now."

"No!" Arthur shouted, doing all he could to struggle against the hands on him. "You can't! He's not ready!"

"Arthur he is old enough now." Francis tried to hold Arthur down, failing slightly when the other angel's head bashed against his shoulder. "Alfred will be fine!"

"He won't!" Arthur clenched his eyes shut, willing back the wetness that had gathered in them. "I won't let you!"

The air around them shifted as they continued upwards, and, as it smoothed out again, the clouds dispersed and they were flying in cool silver skies. They had crossed the barrier. And Arthur drooped in their grip.

"Arthur, listen to me." Francis motioned for the other angels to move away and he clasped both of Arthur's shoulders. "He is but one boy. We cannot save them all. Your life is just as important as his, and it is an angel's duty to protect their kin. We will not let you destroy yourself for one human."

"I promised I would never leave him." Arthur muttered, doing nothing to hold back the tears from rolling down his face anymore.

"Arthur, please." Francis frowned, "Don't do this to yourself."

"I don't break my promises, Francis." Arthur's words had bite to them now. Crossing back into their own world had restored a little of his strength, it seemed.

"The barrier is closed, Arthur." Francis tightened his grip once more, frowning as Arthur seemed to shake in his hands. "You will die if you try to go back there."

Arthur looked up, his eyes dry and definitely angry, "You can't stop me."

He let his power spark, flashing out around them and forcing Francis to let go of him. Arthur spun back around, willing his wings to support him and fly as fast as they could carry him back towards the barrier, bracing himself as it smashed around him as he forced his way through it.

They wouldn't catch him. Not now.

•••

Alfred tossed in his sleep. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a nightmare, but he knew the feeling, and this, this was the worst yet.

There were shadows everywhere, reaching out toward him, calling out and goading him, laughing deep, cruel laughs. The light that had banished them before was gone, and Alfred couldn't for the life of him work out why.

One last bark of laughter jerked Alfred from his sleep, fighting his way out of his bed covers only to find the shadows still surrounding him, blocking anything from view.

His eyes stung and swam with the strain of trying to see through the darkness, not finding anything that he could recognise, just more and more blackness.

Alfred only knew that he was awake because his hand throbbed from hitting the headboard of his bed when he jerked awake. And, God, did he wish that he was still dreaming.

There were voices amongst the laughter now, shrill and horrid, but at the same time, oddly familiar. They sneered at him, never quite becoming distinguishable, but never changing.

"Who's there?" Alfred shouted into the darkness, wishing for the life of him that his voice wouldn't shake so much.

The laughing got louder, seeming to bubble around him until one clear voice stood out from the rest.

"He's left you, boy." The voice spoke calmly, and Alfred could just picture a wicked grin accompanying it. "The angel, whose company you so desperately crave, has left you." The shadows started to take on a shape, forming a body for the voice that Alfred knew only too well. "Leaving you to the mercy of fate and granting us what we have so desperately yearned for these past eight years."

Alfred pushed himself back as far as he could against the wall, glaring at the familiar form that the shadows were taking, the face somehow twisted and terrible compared to the kind smile that he had never forgotten.

"You're the ones he warned me about," Alfred practically growled.

If these really were the demons that Arthur had always told him about, then that could only mean that Arthur really was gone. The angel, whom he had longed to see ever since he had disappeared two years ago, had abandoned him, leaving him to the mercy of the creatures that he had so faithfully protected him from, even if Alfred could no longer see him. He'd always been sure that Arthur was still there by his side.

The demon smirked, distorting the angel's face even further, its eyes glowing red in the dark room. "Pathetic." It hummed, "All alone, without a hope of rescue." It advanced forward; the grin never leaving Arthur's darkened features. "Oh, I will enjoy destroying you."

Alfred's eyes widened, trying to move away, but hitting the wall hard instead.

The demon started to lean over Alfred, feeling as if it was made from ice as it crept ever closer. Alfred felt as if he was being plunged into freezing water as it stood over him.

It reached out, tilting Alfred's chin up harshly so that the teenager cried out, its smile only growing at his discomfort, his fear fuelling it.

But then it stopped. The figure seemed in ripple and shift before leaping backwards as light flooded the room and Alfred felt arms wrap around him. Arms that were familiar, welcoming, and _God_, how Alfred had missed them.

Arthur seemed to shine brighter than Alfred ever remembered, his light reaching every corner of his bedroom and blinding the demon that had backed away into its shadowy composure once again.

"It's alright, Alfred." Arthur's breathing was heavy and a bit haggard, "You're safe."

Arthur turned, shielding Alfred from the demon that faced them. His usually soft features were drawn into a glare that didn't suit him. A vast change from the friendly face that Alfred remembered so well, it almost rivalled what the demon had tried to turn him into.

But something was wrong. Arthur wasn't standing right. His wings were messed up and one of them was definitely broken.

Alfred clenched his hands, realising that they felt sticky and when he looked down he could tell they were covered in what was unmistakeably blood. He stared at Arthur, seeing the stuff spreading out and into his robe from under his broken wing.

"Arthur, you're bleeding!" He reached out for the angel again, but his words fell on deaf ears.

Arthur held his ground in front of Alfred, refusing to let his fatigue win through. It was bad enough that he didn't have enough power left to hide himself from Alfred anymore, he had to make what little he had left count. There was something far too important at stake.

"How dare you come here." He spat at the demon. "How dare you set foot in this place." He could feel himself shaking, not from the pain on his back, but from the sheer anger at the demon and at himself for allowing it to get this close. "How _dare_ you lay your hand on Alfred!"

The shadow shifted again, looking as though it wanted to escape the light coming from the angel, but was reluctant to give up the prize it had been waiting all these years for.

"You neglected your duty, angel." Its voice had split and sounded as though there were many of them speaking rather than just one lone figure. "You _allowed_ me to touch your precious human."

"And you will never touch him again!" Arthur shouted, feeling his power shoot out of him as he spoke.

He allowed it to escape him, willing it toward the demon with everything he had. His body wouldn't put up with this for long, so he had to make this count.

This time he would finish his job properly.

Arthur's back throbbed horribly, the pain getting worse with every second that his power rushed out of him. He could feel his legs starting to shake as they wanted to give out from the strain, but he ignored it. He wouldn't let his own problems get in the way of saving what was most important. Not ever.

This time the demons would never be able to return.

The demon convulsed, faltering under the light that Arthur was producing. Its own power was petering out more and more by the second, the size of the shadow shrinking away until it could barely be seen.

The light was getting too much for it and then finally it was overpowered, and vanished.

Arthur let out a sigh of relief, allowing his power to fade away into nothingness. His legs finally gave out and the angel fell to the floor, clenching his eyes shut as he felt the skin on his back split open even more, his wings falling flat against him.

And then Alfred was by his side. His Alfred. The boy he had longed to protect and had done just that.

He was saying something, Arthur realised, turning him over so that he was resting on his knees rather than the floor. He was shaking. Both of them were. But that didn't stop the small smile creeping back onto Arthur's features at the sight of his charge.

He reached up, cupping Alfred's cheek just to make sure that he really was there, and let out a breath that he wasn't awake he was holding when Alfred leaned into the touch.

"I'm sorry." Arthur croaked, his voice catching in his throat as another wave of pain coursed through his wings and back.

"What?" Alfred shook a little harder, trying not to hurt Arthur any further, but he could feel the hot wetness of the blood leeching into his pyjama pants. "What the hell have you got to be sorry for?!"

"I broke my promise." Arthur sat up, wishing that he didn't have to use Alfred for support. "I left your side when I swore I never would."

"You're right here, aren't you?" Alfred tried to smile but knew that it hadn't worked. He had an arm wrapped around Arthur still, stopping the angel from slipping over again. "No harm done, right?"

Arthur laughed, small and quiet, his eyes never leaving Alfred's as the boy worried over him. "It took everything I had to get back to you. Those self-righteous idiots would never understand."

Alfred drifted out of focus for a few moments, and Arthur had to blink a couple of times to regain his vision properly again. "I'm glad you weren't hurt."

Alfred blanched, gaping at the angel, "Not hurt?" He cut himself off, well and truly lost for words, "You're stupid, y'know that? Why did you come back if you were gonna practically kill yourself doing it?!"

"You're worth it." Arthur said, not hesitating for a second and leaving Alfred completely and utterly speechless.

Arthur sighed, the smile on his face warm, if a little strained, "I never wanted to leave. Not for one moment. I suppose this is a justified retribution for breaking my promise."

"I didn't think angels were supposed to hold their pride too high." Alfred muttered, shifting Arthur into a more comfortable position.

Arthur let out a laugh and winced slightly, regretting the sudden movement, "Yes, but I was never a very good angel."

"Best I ever met."

The quiet settled around the room for a few moments, only Arthur's breathing breaking through it. The light had long since faded back into the soft greys of the night, getting brighter as dawn gradually approached, but dimmed by the curtains.

It dawned on Arthur how long it had really been since the two of them had had any sort of conversation, far too long. And this was hardly how he had pictured a reunion between them, if they ever had one. This had a morbid finality to it. One that he was certain would come to pass, no matter how much he wished that it wouldn't.

"I looked for you, y'know." Alfred spoke first, smoothing down Arthur's crumpled feathers, "For ages."

"I know." Arthur looked away, shivering from the touch, "I watched you."

"Then why did you disappear?!" Alfred practically shouted, only just remembering to be careful of Arthur's injuries. "Why didn't you let me see you anymore?! Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"You did nothing of the sort." Arthur said, trying to remain calm as the room swam in his vision once more and he slid back down into Alfred's grip.

"Then why-!"

"I wanted you to live a normal life." Arthur cut across him, trying to level out his breathing, taking slow, deep breaths. "I had caused you enough trouble by being visible to you. It would have been selfish of me to continue as we were when it was so obviously not what you needed from me."

He sighed, supressing the shudder that was threatening to course through him. His entire body ached and he knew that there was only so much time that he had left.

"All I needed was for you to come back."

Arthur's eyes went wide, staring at Alfred. For all this time he had longed for this boy's attention, to properly be in his company again. But despite being older, Alfred was still a child, and Arthur had missed him growing up. He had wasted his chance. His power had more than diminished and now he was suffering the consequences.

"I suppose this is my punishment for not giving you what you what you truly needed, then." Arthur dropped his gaze, biting his lip as another shot of pain ran through him.

His feathers were starting to fall to the floor around them, heavy and stained with blood. Alfred was carefully stroking the ones that remained, the concern etched onto his face.

"You'll be okay, right?" He said suddenly, "Angels can't die, right?" He could have been eight years old again in his desperation. Arthur could almost see the little boy standing in front of him instead of the sixteen year old.

"Alfred." Arthur stopped him from saying any more, "You know the answer to your questions just as well as I do. I broke a cardinal rule and broke through the barrier separating our worlds to get back to you. Even if I could heal, my power would never be restored." His voice broke, shattering any pretence at calmness. He could feel himself shaking more violently now, his throat clenching and drying out as realisation hit him like a freight train. "I- I'm going to die, Alfred." He curled in on himself, clutching onto Alfred's shirt.

Alfred stayed silent, simply holding the angel in his arms. He couldn't take it in. Arthur was the only one he had left. His parents were gone and Matthew had long since left. He didn't know what he'd do without Arthur as well. Even if he hadn't been able to see the angel for the past two years, he had been certain that Arthur had always been there. After all, he'd promised.

Arthur shuddered in his arms, his muscles seizing as he started coughing. The angel's throat retched as he tried to heave in air but choked on it when it came.

Alfred could feel his panic rising as he watched Arthur curl in on himself, small flecks of blood escaping him as he coughed and choked. The wound on his back hadn't let up at all either, still leaking blood down Arthur's back and wings, clinging to the feathers and making them stick together before they fell to the floor as well.

He'd gotten too pale. Far too pale. Arthur's hair clung to his forehead, slick with sweat and looking almost brown against his bloodless skin compared to the normally sandy blonde.

He coughed again, this time his eyes going wide as his breath hitched in his throat. He could see Alfred shouting something but couldn't make out the words as his vision swam and he fell back in the human's arms.

Arthur could feel his muscles going limp but he willed his face to remain calm, keeping the small tired smile pointed at Alfred.

"No, no, no." Alfred almost chanted, shaking his head at the angel's smile, "You can't. Don't you dare!"

Arthur let out his weakest laugh yet, his smile sad, "I'm proud of you, Alfred." He spoke quietly, barely using a breath. "You've grown up so well."

"Stop talking." Alfred pleaded, trying to stop the tears from welling up in his eyes, "You'll be okay."

"Don't be silly." Arthur sighed, coughing a little again, "Do something for me, Alfred?"

Alfred sniffed, rubbing furiously at his eyes, keeping them fixed on Arthur, "What is it?"

Arthur rested his hand on Alfred's cheek again, brushing away a loose tear, "Live. Don't waste what you've got, alright?"

Alfred grasped his hand, holding it as tightly as he dared, "Sure." He tried to smile.

"Promise me."

"I promise."

"Good." Arthur let himself go limp, his hand loosening in Alfred's as he closed his eyes. "That's good."

Alfred kept the silence this time, watching Arthur's breathing as it faded.

He didn't make any attempt to hide his crying anymore. There was no point. He wouldn't be able to stop it.

He looked at the feathers gathering on the floor for a few moments, wishing that they were still the shining white he remembered from when he was younger.

And then he felt it. Arthur's head slipping to the side and his chest ceasing to rise and fall as breathing tapered away and stopped.

Alfred leant over Arthur's now still form, his own body shaking as he cried.

The angel, _his_ angel, was gone. And this time he couldn't come back.

•••

He didn't know how long he stayed like that.

All Alfred knew was, that the next time he opened his eyes, Arthur's body was gone and he was left alone in his room, surrounded by perfectly pristine white feathers.

•••

Alfred stopped at the entrance to the orphanage grounds. It had been a few weeks since he had been back, but the appearance of a new face there never failed to surprise him. Even more so when they were accompanied by another vaguely familiar figure sporting large white wings.

He dumped his travel bag by the gate, crossing the path until the small girl noticed him, staring up at him with big brown eyes and ceasing her playing.

The angel also stopped to watch him, but Alfred gave him nothing more than a side glance as he crouched down next to the child, giving her a bright smile instead, "Hey kiddo, what's your name?"

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers." She mumbled, not meeting Alfred's eyes.

The angel that was with her moved forward, whispering something in the girl's ear before smiling and ushering her toward Alfred. She held out her hand, still looking a little uncomfortable, but gave her best smile, "I'm Angelique."

Alfred took her hand and giving it a quick shake, "Hi Angelique, I'm Alfred. What're you playing?"

"Francis is showing me how to make daisy chains." She smiled a little wider, lifting up a half-finished line of flowers.

"Francis, huh?" Alfred nodded at the angel.

"Yup." Angelique grinned, turned to pull the angel forward, "He's my friend."

"Why don't you go and finish your chain, Angie? Let me speak with Alfred for a while." Francis patted her head briefly, smiling as she rushed off again to look for more flowers. "She is a sweet child." He turned to Alfred, his expression hardening a little.

"I can tell." Al said, not quite meeting the angel's eyes. He wasn't sure if he was ready to see Francis again, even if several years had passed and he was twenty-one now. The last time he had seen this particular angel nothing good had come of it.

He had been travelling with a friend in Arizona at the time. Not for the first time either. And, like himself, Francis had been looking for something – some_one_.

"How long has she been here for?"

"Little over a week." Francis turned to watch Angelique again, "She is settling in well now, though there were some lumps and bumps at first."

"Not surprising, really." Alfred frowned, he could still remember his first few weeks in the orphanage after his parents had died and how difficult they had been at the time. "What happened?"

"From what the teachers here say, her aunt died in a car crash."

"And her parents?"

"I haven't the slightest idea." Francis admitted, shrugging at Alfred, "She had apparently been living with her aunt for as long as she can remember."

"Poor kid." Alfred sighed, "You couldn't do anything?"

"We weren't aware of her until after it happened." Francis was almost glaring at the floor, but quickly shrugged it off. "But we are now. And I am doing whatever I can to look after her."

"She'll be safe while she's here." Alfred smiled.

"And while you're here, yes." Francis gave him a stern look that wasn't unlike the ones that Alfred used to get from a certain _other_ angel when he was younger. "For when you are not, I am here. Arthur only protected you, not this entire place."

"Yeah, yeah." Alfred laughed, he'd never taken lecturing well, "Don't get jealous though. All the kids here love me."

Francis chuckled, rolling his eyes at Alfred, "Yes, I had heard you were a Carer here now. Somehow I am not surprised."

Alfred shrugged, moving back to grab his bag again, shirking it onto his shoulder, "I love the kids and it pays for my travelling."

They stood in silence for a few moments watching Angelique pick and thread flowers together. It was a pleasant afternoon, not too hot, but warm enough for the children to play outside comfortably without having to wear too many layers.

"Where did you go this time?" Francis asked, looking over the size of Alfred's travel bag.

"Up to visit Matt in Canada." Alfred hitched the bag up again.

"Did you have any luck?"

"Not any more than the last time you saw me." He sighed, running his free hand through his hair and adjusting his new glasses. He'd broken another pair when Matt had insisted on playing hockey and had to fork out the money for yet another new pair. He needed to remember to front Matt the bill this time.

Francis nodded, "Maybe it's time to stop looking?"

"Naw." Alfred grinned. "If I stop then I'll never find him."

Francis smiled again, looking almost proud of Alfred. Despite everything that had happened that led to this point, he was still glad that after everything, Alfred had been saved.

"Francis." They turned, finding Angelique smiling up at the two of them, "I finished it." She held up the finished daisy chain, grinning at her own work.

"It is splendid, Angie." Francis beamed at her, taking the line of flowers, making a few adjustments of his own until he had fashioned it into a crown, placing it proudly on Angelique's head. "Now you look like a princess."

Angelique giggled, giving them a twirl and sat back down on the grass, starting to pick more flowers. "I was wondering," she said, looking a bit more thoughtful as she strung the flowers together, "how come Al can see you too, Francis? You said other people couldn't see you."

"Ah, well you see," Francis crouched down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and looking back up at Alfred, "when Alfred was your age, he had an angel friend as well. Though he is not quite as special as you, flower."

Angelique giggled again, leaning against the angel while still busily threading the flower stems together. Francis stretched his wings out behind him, relaxing down onto the grass next to his charge, watching her with a soft smile that Alfred had seen before, except on the face of a different angel, and when he was much younger. He supposed this was what it had felt like when he had just met Arthur and he had finally started to feel safe again. But that was a long time ago. He just hoped that these two had a happier ending.

"There you are Angie!" All three of them jumped at the new voice, one that made Angelique cringe, Francis smirk, and Alfred gaped.

The voice he knew well enough, but it was the person it belonged to that left him in shock. The only difference was the lack of wings and robe. The rest was exactly the same, right down to the slightly too thick eyebrows.

He was Arthur.

"I was wondering where you'd gotten to." He sighed, walking up to the group. "Have you not heard us calling you?"

Angelique shook her head, her pigtails waving about her head as she did so.

"Well, never mind. It's dinner time, come along."

Angelique huffed, crossing her arms and pouting. "But Arthur-!"

'Arthur' chuckled, "If you keep doing that then your face will stick that way. Go on, poppet. Go and wash up, the others are waiting for you."

Angelique scowled, abandoning her current daisy chain in favour of grabbing Francis's hand and leading him inside. Alfred swore he saw 'Arthur' give the angel a side glance, his brows furrowing slightly at him before he turned his attention back to Alfred. "May I help you?"

Alfred started, almost forgetting that he was still standing outside the orphanage, "Oh, no. I was just heading inside."

"May I ask _why_?"

"Err…" Alfred stared at him for a few moments. This _was_ Arthur, right? So why was he asking questions as if he had no idea who he was? "Because I live here."

"Oh!" 'Arthur' smacked a hand to his forehead, "You're Alfred Jones, aren't you?" Alfred nodded. "Tino said to expect you, sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

"No sweat, but, erm, who are you?" Alfred asked, tentative for the answer. Maybe this guy just _looked_ like Arthur. It wasn't all that unusual for people to look the same… or sound the same… or have the same name…

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm Arthur Kirkland." Arthur held out his hand, which Alfred shook. "Do come inside." Arthur smiled, "Tino was making sure to save you some dinner for when you got back."

"Uh, yeah." Alfred nodded, feeling more than a bit weirded out at being led inside him own home. "So, err, you a new carer or something?"

Arthur looked confused for a moment, then chuckled and shook his head, "Oh, no. I'm just staying here for a while. I'm working as a journalist and Tino and Berwald said I could stay here until my affairs were all in order. I must say, I was lucky I ran into them when I did. I'm doing an article on child care and this is just the thing I needed. I've been living in London until now and to be honest, I haven't the foggiest idea what goes where here in America. It's like waking up and putting all my clothes on back-to-front."

Alfred wasn't quite taking it in. He simply nodded vacantly when he thought he was supposed to, dropping his bag at the bottom of the hallway stairs on their way through to the kitchen.

"Al!" Alfred was snapped back to attention by something small and hairy slamming up against his legs, clinging to them a little too tightly. "Al's back!" The small boy shouted behind him into the dining room where the other children were sat at various stages through their dinner.

"Whoa, hey there, squirt." Alfred laughed, arranging himself so that he would trip over the boy and ruffled his hair, "Man, Markie, you need a haircut."

Markie pouted, scowling up at Alfred, "Why does everyone keep _saying_ that?!"

"Because it's true." Tino emerged from the kitchen, holding another plateful of food and placing it in front of Angelique, who was now sat down with the other children. "Welcome back, Al." He smiled at Alfred trying to prise the child off his legs, plopping him back in his chair at the table, "There's some food left in the pan for you. Just don't eat it _all_. I want something left to eat when the rabble are done."

"Thanks Tino." Alfred grinned, giving him a quick hug as he passed on his way into the kitchen.

Berwald was stood in the kitchen, still serving up the last few plates of food. He glanced at Alfred, giving him what Alfred had learnt over the years was his equivalent of a smile, and plated up another portion, handing it over to him. "Thanks," Alfred grinned, pushing himself onto the countertop, "I'm starving."

"Aren't you always?" Tino came back through the doorway, picking up a plate and passing it back to Arthur behind him.

Alfred didn't get it. This man standing in front of him was unmistakably Arthur. The Arthur he had grown up with, been protected by, and the Arthur who had died in his arms and disappeared.

He travelled ever since he was eighteen just to find other angels who could give him some clues as to what had happened and even they had been baffled. He'd been determined to find Arthur again. But now that someone that certainly looked the same, let alone having the same mannerisms and the same name, was standing in front of him, and he just couldn't get his head around it. Especially since this Arthur didn't seem to have any idea who he was.

"Alfred?" Tino waved in front of his face, "You'll tip your food all over the floor."

"Ah! Sorry." Alfred righted his plate, shovelling in a couple of forkfuls of food in the process.

"So, how's Matthew, anyway?" Tino smiled, Al spacing out wasn't anything unusual.

"Matthew?" Arthur looked shocked, as if he had spoken without meaning to, but tried to cover it up.

"My brother." Alfred answered, swallowing his food, "He gave me something to give you, Tino. It's in my bag."

"Give it later." Berwald spoke up, moving to the door to watch the children in the next room, "Finish yer food first."

Alfred stuck his tongue out, shovelling the rest of his food into his mouth and put his plate in the sink. Tino rolled his eyes as he was passed the package from Matthew, unwrapping the litre bottle of maple syrup that he always got sent whenever Alfred went to visit his younger brother. It would keep the kids going for a while, that was for sure.

The last time Matthew had visited himself, he had tried to teach one group of the children to play hockey and had ended up breaking Alfred's first pair of glasses. Needless to say all the children now wanted to play the game and Berwald had to lock the sticks away to stop any more visits to the emergency room after the first time.

"By the way, Alfred," Tino put the pile of plates on the countertop, leaving it to whoever it was whose turn it was to do the dishes to sort them out, "we've had to lend Arthur the spare bed in your room. Angie's in the last empty room for now until she's settled enough to go in with one of the other girls. That's alright, isn't it?"

Alfred froze in the process of zipping his bag back up again, taking a few seconds to fully take in what had just been said. His fingers slipped on the zip, and he scrambled to get the bag done up and slung it over his shoulder. "S-sure!" He stammered, putting on his best grin, "No problem. Why would there be?"

"That's good, then." Tino smiled, picking up the stray child that had wandered into the kitchen after him, looking far too tired, "You two can go up and sort out your things while I get little'ns off to bed."

Alfred nodded, if a little absently, and followed Arthur out of the room. He still couldn't get his head around the situation he had apparently gotten himself into, but this is what he was now stuck with. He only wished he could at least _pretend_ to be as calm as Arthur was.

"I did my best not to move too much around." Arthur said, sitting down on what used to be Matthew's bed. "I hope I'm not causing you any trouble."

"Nah, it's cool." Alfred looked around the room, noting where a few of his things had been moved to the side slightly so that Arthur's own possessions could fit in the room as well. He hadn't shared a room since he was fourteen, so it would take some getting used to again. Though it wasn't unusual for one of the kids to come and try to sleep in his room instead of their own bed.

He dropped his bag down on his bed, sinking onto the mattress himself, revelling in the fact that he didn't have to sleep on Matt's lumpy student sofa anymore.

"I've been wanting to ask you," Arthur spoke up, catching Alfred's attention once more, "forgive me if I'm being too nosy, but this caught my attention and I've been dying to ask you about it."

He picked a box up off the desk that Alfred recognised instantly, holding it out to him. Alfred had taken care in finding it, though it had taken some trawling through the neighbourhood yard sales until he had found something perfect, delicate, just like the contents.

Arthur opened the lid, careful not to touch the feathers that Alfred kept in the container, as though he was scared that they would break at the slightest touch. "I've never seen feathers quite like these before, and believe me I've been subjected to my fair share of bird watching. Where on earth did you get them?"

Alfred took it, turning around in his hands. He smiled down at the feathers. There was no happy way to tell the story of how he had come into possession of them, especially when he was having to tell the story to the exact look-alike of the one they had once belonged to.

"They belonged to a very dear friend of mine." He decided on, letting his fingers trace over the top few feathers. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Arthur rushed, clapping a hand over his mouth. "I shouldn't have asked."

"Nah, that's okay." Alfred smiled across at him, "You didn't know."

"So they were important to you?" Arthur asked, turning away to adjust his pillow.

"Yeah." Alfred looked back down again. He hadn't really spoken about his Arthur to anyone before since it had happened. It was weird, if anything, after all the time that had passed. "He was the most important."

Alfred didn't really know what happened next. The box had clattered to the floor, the feathers spilling out over the carpet and under the bed. There were arms wrapped around him, a chin rested on the top of his head, and a gasp for air that he didn't know whether it was his own or not.

It was only when he felt Arthur sob again that he finally realised. This, _this_ was his Arthur. He was here, not dead. And despite the differences, Alfred just could find it in him to care in that moment. He could only cling onto Arthur's back in return.

"You stupid, mad, perfect boy." Arthur breathed out, his voice hitching slightly in his throat. He sniffed, moving back so that he was sat next to Alfred instead of practically on top of him, though he kept hold of Alfred's hand. "How is it that, even after all this time, you are so perfect as to remember?"

"How?" Alfred couldn't think of anything else to say, he was still stunned. This was Arthur. He'd proven that, right? But, there were no wings, no signs of the angel that had practically raised Alfred. This Arthur was, by all senses of the word, human, wasn't he? "How can you possibly-?"

"I don't know myself." Arthur smiled, watching Alfred absently rubbing circles into the back of his hand. "I think… I think I was always this way. Human, I mean. There's a whole life I can remember. But I can remember my entire time with you as well. It just feels like a long dream." He leant down, picking up one of the feathers on the floor and turned it in his fingers, "I can remember the feel of these on my back, and how much it hurt to lose them all. I can remember flying and the feel of the wind when I was in the clouds. But then I can remember learning how to ride a bike back in London when I was little. It's complicated."

Alfred took the feather from him, letting it fall back down to the floor with the others. "How did you know it wasn't a dream?"

"Francis found me." Arthur almost sounded annoyed, "I suppose I should be grateful to him really, but he just won't get out of my hair. Especially now that he's looking after Angie. But he was the missing link that I needed. I'd woken up in my flat in Cheapside feeling like I'd had far too much to drink at the work party the night before, and had the strangest dream, but I couldn't quite remember it no matter how hard I tried. It went on that way for months. I kept feeling like I was missing something. I'd started seeing people that my colleagues couldn't. People that looked as though they were flying. But that couldn't be possible, could it? I felt like I was going mad. But then I saw a face that I knew, and Francis found me. And here I am."

"I saw Francis when I was travelling a couple of years ago." Alfred hummed, leaning back on the bed, "I was looking for angels, seeing what I could find out about what happens after they die. He was looking for you."

"It wasn't long after that that he found me." Arthur let out a small laugh that sounded more like exasperation. "I thought I was going bonkers, but I knew who he was and he knew every last detail of the dreams I'd been having. And I realised, well, that they weren't dreams after all." He turned to Alfred, his smile crinkling his eyes slightly, "You wear glasses now."

"Yeah." Alfred pushed them up his nose, "I guess dad's bad sight finally caught up with me. Matt wears them too."

"You're talking to each other again, then? I'm glad." Arthur had laced his fingers together, folding and unfolding his hands every few seconds. "You two need each other."

Alfred nodded, frowning slightly at the thought of when he couldn't so much as take a phone call from his little brother, never mind going and spending weeks on end in Canada with him. It suddenly dawned on him just how quickly he had gone from knowing everything about Arthur, to knowing nothing about him at all. He'd spent years with the angel. But this was someone who had lived an entirely different life. Even the angel Arthur had looked after a child before him; he'd told him stories about her when he was little. But this was completely different. This was a man, living, breathing, sitting in his room with him. He was basically a total stranger with just the memories of the time the angel had spent with Alfred. And that was, somehow, completely disorientating.

"So what now?" He found himself saying without really meaning to.

"What do you mean?" Arthur's smile slipped.

"Well…" Alfred started, not really knowing what to say next, "God, I don't know. You know everything about me, but I-" he trailed off, feeling stupid.

Arthur chuckled, leaning back on his elbows, "Arthur Kirkland. Twenty-three years old, from Kensington, London. I have a mother and father, three older brothers, and one younger. I studied Journalism and English Literature at Kingston University, and now I'm here, in America, working on a project about children's living conditions. I'm staying here until my own living arrangements have been settled, as agreed with one Tino Väinämöinen, as per our agreement when I called to give details of my project. Of course, there were other reasons by that point of my wanting to come to this particular children's home, you understand. And that basically brings us to this point." He smirked at the slightly taken aback expression of Alfred's face, "Did I leave anything out? I could go into every detail of my childhood if you'd like."

Alfred shook his head, reeling slightly from the amount of information he'd just had to take in. He'd never been very good at memorising things.

"Good." Arthur sat up again, his expression softening again. He watched Alfred's confusion for a few more moments. He could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he pieced together the information. The boy really hadn't changed. Except from that he wasn't a boy anymore. While Arthur hadn't been looking Alfred had grown up. The glasses helped of course, but he was taller, his shoulders broader, his face was more mature. Arthur suddenly had the overwhelming feeling that he was talking to a complete stranger, rather than the boy that he'd seen grow up, but had apparently missed the most important part. This Alfred was most definitely an adult.

"I thought about you all the time." Alfred finally spoke up, not looking at Arthur but his ears had turned red. "I- I didn't wanna think that you really had died. You were all I had left."

Arthur stood, the movement making Alfred look at him again, and stooped, carefully placing each feather back in the box where Alfred had kept them safe all these years. He rested his hand atop of them when he was finished, carefully closing the lid so that none of them were trapped at odd angles. He knelt in front of Alfred, placing the box on his lap, keeping one hand on it, and cupping Alfred's cheek with the other. "Don't be silly, darling." He said softly, "I never left."

Alfred took the box, pushing it to one side, pulling Arthur closer instead, wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on his shoulder.

It was stupid that just those few words would affect him this much, but he still didn't want Arthur to see him grinning like an idiot like this.

He felt Arthur's breath hitch for a second before he turned his head and leant into the embrace, his hands coming up to cling into the back of Alfred's shirt, and he knew that Arthur must have been smiling as well.

He supposed now, after all this time, he wouldn't need his angel's feathers anymore. This was much better.

* * *

**(A/N:**

Hey guys! God, it's been a long time. I've literally been working on this for months, pretty much since I last updated OLaS. It's been something I've had in mind for a while and didn't really want to work on anything else until I had it out of the way. Didn't expect it to be quite this long, but there you go.

I have some offshots in mind for this after I've updated OLaS, and also gotten a highschool!AU I've got in my head started, but that one's just going to be something I work on when I feel like it. Little bits here and there.

I hope this didn't make too bad of a comeback for me. University is starting up again for me in a couple of weeks and I'll have to work on that whole heartedly as well as everything else seeing as I'm heading into my final year. Wish me luck!

Also, on a side note, I'm taking art commissions at the moment. Details are over on my deviantART as well as most of my work, if you're interested. I'm a broke art student in need of money lol

Thanks for reading guys! Hopefully I'll update again soon!**)**


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